{"parish":{"localizations":[{"locale":"es","slug":"holy-family-es"}],"seo":{"metaTitle":"Holy Family, Detroit","metaDescription":"Eucharistic testimonies from Holy Family in Detroit, MI","metaImage":{"url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1654882069/i-am-here/220607_IAH_CVR_FB_CRD_01_58dbc6076b.png","alt":"220607_IAH-CVR_FB-CRD-01.png","width":1200,"height":630},"metaSocial":[{"socialNetwork":"Facebook","title":"Holy Family, Detroit","description":"Eucharistic testimonies from Holy Family in Detroit, MI","image":{"url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1654882069/i-am-here/220607_IAH_CVR_FB_CRD_01_58dbc6076b.png","alt":"220607_IAH-CVR_FB-CRD-01.png","width":1200,"height":630}},{"socialNetwork":"Twitter","title":"Holy Family, Detroit","description":"Eucharistic testimonies from Holy Family in Detroit, MI","image":{"url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1654882069/i-am-here/220607_IAH_CVR_FB_CRD_01_58dbc6076b.png","alt":"220607_IAH-CVR_FB-CRD-01.png","width":1200,"height":630}}],"keywords":null,"metaRobots":null},"name":"Holy Family","location":{"city":"Detroit","state":"MI"},"diocese":{"name":"Archdiocese of Detroit","slug":"archdiocese-of-detroit"},"cover":null,"stories":[{"title":"“It's the only place where I feel free to just ‘be’ and not have to ‘do’”","author":{"name":"Alejandra Correa Miller","age":null},"slug":"alejandra-correa","featured":true,"cover":{"url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1671717404/i-am-here/Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038.jpg","provider":"cloudinary","width":2871,"formats":{"large":{"ext":".jpg","url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1671717405/i-am-here/large_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038.jpg","hash":"large_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","mime":"image/jpeg","name":"large_AlejandraC-39-2871x2000-73e8503.jpg","path":null,"size":56.24,"width":1000,"height":697,"provider_metadata":{"public_id":"i-am-here/large_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","resource_type":"image"}},"small":{"ext":".jpg","url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1671717406/i-am-here/small_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038.jpg","hash":"small_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","mime":"image/jpeg","name":"small_AlejandraC-39-2871x2000-73e8503.jpg","path":null,"size":16.72,"width":500,"height":349,"provider_metadata":{"public_id":"i-am-here/small_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","resource_type":"image"}},"medium":{"ext":".jpg","url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1671717406/i-am-here/medium_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038.jpg","hash":"medium_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","mime":"image/jpeg","name":"medium_AlejandraC-39-2871x2000-73e8503.jpg","path":null,"size":33.48,"width":750,"height":523,"provider_metadata":{"public_id":"i-am-here/medium_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","resource_type":"image"}},"thumbnail":{"ext":".jpg","url":"https://res.cloudinary.com/furrow/image/upload/v1671717405/i-am-here/thumbnail_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038.jpg","hash":"thumbnail_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","mime":"image/jpeg","name":"thumbnail_AlejandraC-39-2871x2000-73e8503.jpg","path":null,"size":4.88,"width":223,"height":156,"provider_metadata":{"public_id":"i-am-here/thumbnail_Alejandra_C_39_2871x2000_73e8503_d6c8cab038","resource_type":"image"}}},"alternativeText":"AlejandraC-39-2871x2000-73e8503.jpg"},"excerpt":"

I was born in Chile, however I grew up in Miami, Florida. Like most Hispanics, our home was a Catholic home, mostly in a cultural sense rather than in practice. We attended Mass every Sunday with my father. At around the age of sixteen I began to drift away from my Catholic faith. I saw no point to my faith. It was an obligation empty of any meaning. I soon left the Church and declared myself an atheist.

At eighteen years of age, Hurricane Andrew devastated my hometown. Just a few months later on October 20, 1992, I had a near fatal car accident. I went back to Church briefly but the seeds of faith fell on rocky soil. For the next nine years I went back and forth, attending Mass mostly when I “needed” God.

At the age of about twenty-six, with little to no faith, my life began to feel empty and pointless. I went to work, paid my bills, had fun on the weekends, and then did it all over again on Monday. I felt alone and a void in my heart began to grow. I tried filling it with experiences and pleasures but the emptiness just festered. I found myself with nowhere to turn.

One night, in 2001, while living with a friend of mine, I found myself alone. The emptiness was so poignant that I just broke down sobbing. I longed for something, however I did not know what it was. The desolation was all encompassing.

I fell to my knees in anguish and cried out to God, ‘Lord, this is not me! Please help me!’ It was on that day, after many years of turning away from God, that I began to pray. It was probably my first earnest prayer to God in my life.

Something changed in me that evening. The darkness that had been closing in on me began to dissipate quickly. I started to sever toxic friendships. I visited any Catholic Church I could find. I was drawn to the Church and did not really understand why. However, I did know that it was the only place in which I could pray deeply and find peace.

About six months later, on Saturday afternoon on October 20, 2001, I was shopping. As I was perusing the aisles I slowly felt a sense of urgency growing in my heart. I didn’t understand it. All of a sudden, I put everything down, I briskly walked to my car and drove to my old parish. I walked into the Blessed Sacrament Chapel and began to pray.

I arrived at 3:45 p.m. Unbeknownst to me, it was the scheduled time for weekly confessions. I was sitting in the chapel trying to pray when I began to hear a voice inside of my heart saying, “Go to confession!” I hesitated and was paralyzed with fear. I didn’t even remember how to go to confession! The priest would laugh at me. I hadn’t gone to confession since my First Holy Communion, nearly twenty years earlier.

I was the only one left in the chapel and I had to make a decision. Like a child I walked towards the confessional, cringing in fear. I sat in the empty chair and did not dare make eye contact with the priest. The immensity of shame from offending God all those years suddenly became acute and too heavy to bear. I blurted out ‘I haven't done this in a long time. I need your help!’ I felt awkward and uncomfortable.

Fr. Albert said in a gentle voice, ‘Just tell the Lord your sins. How have you offended God?’ And on that day I unloaded the great weight I had been carrying for so long. One by one, I named my sins! I cried cleansing tears that soon turned into healing sobs.

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